Friday, April 21, 2006

Goin' Out To Cally - Part 6, Leftovers

After you’re in a car for more than two hours, everything begins to blur. Time, location, meaning… everything ends up in a big, fat vat of “are we there yet?”

Our drive from Florida to Mississippi was a long and unmemorable trip. Trying to conserve as much money as possible, we planned on utilizing as many relatives between Florida and California that we could muster. Unfortunately, all of my extended family lived in the Northeast. As it turns out, Beth was the only one who actually had relatives located anywhere close to our prepared, mapped-out course. We didn’t want anything special, just a place to rest our heads… for free.

Beth’s Aunt Patsy and Uncle Don answered the call and kindly offered us a place to sleep for the first night of our trek.
In an effort to refrain from being presumptuous, we all decided to stop and eat at a local McDonalds just before arriving at their Mississippi home. After all, it would be too much to expect to be fed for free as well… wouldn’t it?

We should have done our research on Southern hospitality before devouring our McDinner.

Stuffed to the gills with various fried and soy-enhanced edibles, we arrived at the nice and humble home of Aunt Patsy and Uncle Don. Aunt Patsy exited her home and greeted us with hugs and smiles. The four weary travelers were just happy to escape the blue cocoon we had called home for the past ten hours. Our muscles were stiff and our bones crunched as we unpacked and moved our belongings into the house.

Aunt Patsy had prepared one guest room for Beth and Sunday to share and another for Tim and me.

And she also prepared some food.

A lot of food.

A mess hall’s worth of ham and turkey and potatoes, both mashed and sweet, and vegetables and desserts. We all just stared in awe at the feast that laid before us, our stomachs churning as it struggled to digest our fast food appetizer. I leaned over to Tim and said “I’m stuffed! What are we going to do?”

“Eat,” he replied.

And he was right. How could we turn it down? Think of all of the love and care and effort that went into that glorious meal? None of us had the nerve or desire to inform Aunt Patsy that her banquet was unwelcome because we had partook of a large helping of unknown chicken parts mashed together, formed, fried and labeled “nuggets.”

So, we sat… and ate… slowly.

Every bite was a challenge. Aunt Patsy looked on as if her entire value as a human being depended upon our facial expressions and food intake. After some time, the eating had to stop. After all, if we had tried to squeeze one more morsel down our gullets it would have surely forced a reversal of the digestive process, thereby destroying any goodwill we had thus far created.

As we put our forks down we were ashamed at the amount of food still available to us. Had we really eaten so little? Or was there just way too much food? Or some combination of both? With almost pleading eyes she asked “are you sure you don’t want anymore?”

We all politely relayed our immense satisfaction and gratitude, but respectfully declined. Wounded, yet undeterred, Aunt Patsy smiled and started to put all of the food away. We offered to help, but she quickly reminded us that we were guests in her house and Uncle Don guided us into the adjoining living room.

Tim, Beth and I sat down, our stomachs pooched out like just before a post-Thanksgiving Day meal nap. We moaned and groaned to ourselves, hoping we wouldn’t burst open.

Sunday, on the other hand, remained standing, looking none-the-less for wear, transfixed on an intricate tile design on the wall above the fireplace mantel. The tiles formed a circle and displayed a variety of animals... a fish, a scorpion, a man with a bow and arrow... all of the astrological symbols.

Her eyes studied it closely and a small smile brightening her face.
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